Strike the Bars II
21st of Ash, 124rd Year, A.o.S.
The silence around Lyra was thick, pressing against her as she lay still within the demonstone. She had long since quieted the raw fury of her first days here, refining it into something sharper. Now, patience gripped her, holding her rage like a taut wire, controlled but deadly.
Lyra had spent many hours contemplating her situation. Though her prison was formidable, there were signs of potential weaknesses she could leverage. Her thoughts drifted back to the fragment of her soul she had sent across the boundaries of the demonstone. She had tried many, many times to touch upon that fragment, but always it seemed just out of reach. She could sense it somewhat, but it was like hearing a sound in a long and empty hallway, distant and hard to distinguish. Still she knew it was there, and that was some comfort.
Now she found herself drifting idly in the confines of the stone. From time to time she could sense the pull on her aether as the wards were reinforced, but she had not felt a significant draw in some time. There did not necessarily seem to be a pattern to the draining, as if the wards simply remained active and drew upon her essence when they reached some arbitrary level. When she struggled the siphoning came more often, but when she was still as she was now it seemed almost random.
It was clear that she would not be able to break the stone from the inside. Even when she targeted the wider outlet channels she simply could not summon enough force to overwhelm the defenses before her power was drained away. More frustrating was that any essence that did make it through the mesh to the outside world was completely ripped from her control. Every part of her will and intent was contained inside of the demonstone, yet somehow her power itself could be drawn out and used for whatever purpose the wielder desired. Lyra had been reduced to nothing more than a tool.
The anger threatened to explode once more, but Lyra quickly stamped down on those feelings. It would do her no good to fly into a fit of rage. She would only be wasting more of the limited aether she had access to.
That lead Lyra's thoughts back to one of the most troubling aspects of her situation. Because of the constant draw on her aether she was not able to build up enough power to enact any significant works of magic. Yes many of her lesser spells were available to her, but they were not directly useful to alter her current situation. Frustrating as it was, Lyra had come to accept that if she were to make any movements to escape she would have to find a method to resist the draw of her power and save up what aether she could.
This was the problem which Lyra had contemplated over the last few days, and it was not one that was easily solved.
21st of Ash, 124rd Year, A.o.S.
The silence around Lyra was thick, pressing against her as she lay still within the demonstone. She had long since quieted the raw fury of her first days here, refining it into something sharper. Now, patience gripped her, holding her rage like a taut wire, controlled but deadly.
Lyra had spent many hours contemplating her situation. Though her prison was formidable, there were signs of potential weaknesses she could leverage. Her thoughts drifted back to the fragment of her soul she had sent across the boundaries of the demonstone. She had tried many, many times to touch upon that fragment, but always it seemed just out of reach. She could sense it somewhat, but it was like hearing a sound in a long and empty hallway, distant and hard to distinguish. Still she knew it was there, and that was some comfort.
Now she found herself drifting idly in the confines of the stone. From time to time she could sense the pull on her aether as the wards were reinforced, but she had not felt a significant draw in some time. There did not necessarily seem to be a pattern to the draining, as if the wards simply remained active and drew upon her essence when they reached some arbitrary level. When she struggled the siphoning came more often, but when she was still as she was now it seemed almost random.
It was clear that she would not be able to break the stone from the inside. Even when she targeted the wider outlet channels she simply could not summon enough force to overwhelm the defenses before her power was drained away. More frustrating was that any essence that did make it through the mesh to the outside world was completely ripped from her control. Every part of her will and intent was contained inside of the demonstone, yet somehow her power itself could be drawn out and used for whatever purpose the wielder desired. Lyra had been reduced to nothing more than a tool.
The anger threatened to explode once more, but Lyra quickly stamped down on those feelings. It would do her no good to fly into a fit of rage. She would only be wasting more of the limited aether she had access to.
That lead Lyra's thoughts back to one of the most troubling aspects of her situation. Because of the constant draw on her aether she was not able to build up enough power to enact any significant works of magic. Yes many of her lesser spells were available to her, but they were not directly useful to alter her current situation. Frustrating as it was, Lyra had come to accept that if she were to make any movements to escape she would have to find a method to resist the draw of her power and save up what aether she could.
This was the problem which Lyra had contemplated over the last few days, and it was not one that was easily solved.
